


While You Were Away

by kittenmittens



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, jim mpreg, just the briefest mention of male breastfeeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmittens/pseuds/kittenmittens
Summary: Jim groans and covers his face. "I'm surrounded by robots."Spock looks up at Jim. "You are not surrounded by robots. You are in in the company of two Vulcans of mixed heritage.""Right," Jim deadpans. "My mistake."





	While You Were Away

**Author's Note:**

> Something I did for a kink meme that I completely forgot about, and am now posting as a little favor. It's un-betad, and may read a little rough, as it's pretty old. The last segment with Spock Prime is heavily influenced by "Pint of Hope" by Southern_Heaven which is basically my favorite Spirk mpreg fic ever.

The first person Jim tells is his mom.

He figures she deserves to know after everything he put her through growing up. Of course, he waits until it's been about seven months (or eight—he's admittedly done a piss-poor job of keeping track of this whole "life changing miracle") before telling her. But hey, at least he _tells_ her. That has to count for something.

The response he gets is a mix of anger, frustration, relief, and, "if anyone could manage to defy the laws of nature like this, it'd be you, Jim".

The second person to find out is Spock's father. Jim tries to weasel out of being there, but Spock makes sure he's by his side when he spills the beans. And, of course, being a Vulcan, there's no hedging around the issue. There's no delicately easing Spock's dad into what promises to be one of the biggest shocks of his life. No, Spock basically just walks in, blurts out something like "Jim Kirk is pregnant with my child due to him having intercourse with an alien woman that resulted in transferrable genetic codes. This later enabled Jim to develop the necessary components for conceiving and carrying a child to term." And when Jim says "something like that", Jim means that’s pretty much word for word exactly what Spock says. After that, he waited with a glassy eyed, robotic expression until his father said something that causes Spock's harsh black eyes to soften just a little with relief.

Sarek gives them some lengthy, insightful speech that Jim really _tries_ to listen to, and absorb, but he drifts in and out of anyway. Whatever. He gets the gist, and the gist is, "This is an interesting development and I didn't see it coming despite all my Vulcan superiority. However, I'm not going to disown you, so congratulations".

Point is, it goes well. As well as a situation this weird _could_ go.

As for the crew, they already know. They knew the minute Kirk got a (temporary) honorable discharge, which forced him to explain that, yes, there was a reason he was getting kicked out, and no, it wasn't his reckless behavior, or disregard for the rules, or vitriolic relationship with his first officer that repeatedly proved to be a real pain in the ass on good days, and potentially life threatening on bad ones. No, the reason was something that was out of his control. Well, he said it was out of his control, but as Uhura and McCoy both pointed out, he was perfectly capable of _not_ sleeping with that Fecundian woman, just like he could've easily avoided bedding his First Officer. And, hell, while they’re on the topic, he probably could've paid more attention to Bones' diagnosis in the middle of all that. When the guy told him, "Jim, you can officially get knocked up, so try to have a little restraint so you don’t end up becoming a modern miracle,” he probably should have taken it to heart.

But truth be told, Jim's not unhappy. Although, that isn't to say he can't complain. Because he can complain. He can complain a _lot._ As it turns out, pregnancy sucks. And Jim now has much more respect for women—especially since he's come to realize some women actually put themselves through this intentionally. This experience, which is really just a puking, dizzy, nauseous, uncomfortable, swollen nightmare, isn't something he'd willingly repeat in a million years. It's hard enough the first time, especially since he keeps flip-flopping between two mental states: one being "Oh God, why isn't this over already?" and the other being "Oh _God_ , this kid's gonna have to come out".

Spock also flip-flops a lot. Except, not really. It's more like the Vulcan's quirks and idiosyncrasies range from tolerable to making Jim want to strangle him. On some level, Jim knows it's virtually all in his head, but Spock not sharing any of Jim's nervousness or frustration is admittedly kind of obnoxious. All he ever seems to get out of the Vulcan is that endless, aggravating indifference. But occasionally, some part of Spock's mask will crack and he'll do something that reminds Jim why this kid happened in the first place. He'll dump out the coffee Jim started to brew with the mildest twitch of impatience, saying something like, "It is unhealthy for gestating individuals to ingest caffeine". He'll break out of his stiff, motionless pose when they're sleeping to gingerly wrap an arm around Jim, pulling him close. Once in a while, Spock'll give him some small, protective touch, like brushing his fingers over Jim's stomach or pressing their foreheads together or, once, even giving him a small kiss on the temple in public. Jim's no expert on Vulcan behavior—and frankly, he doesn't want to be—but he thinks it's safe to assume the small stuff goes a long way in their culture. And if he's being honest, it goes a long way for him, too.

The big day comes five months after Jim's been put on shore leave, and one month after Spock joined him on personal leave (like hell Jim giving calling it anything with the word "paternity”. Not if _he_ has to call his leave “maternity”, anyway.). Jim wakes up feeling like crap, and when the crappy feeling gets worse instead of going away, Spock makes the delicate suggestion that this could be it. As in, it’s time to rip up some sheets and boil some water.

Jim gets rushed to the nearest hospital while trying not to choke on the lump forming in his throat. He knows he's not nervous, because James Tiberius Kirk doesn’t get nervous. He may, however, be freaking the fuck out. Thankfully, Spock refuses to abandon him through the entire trip, sternly insisting he be at Jim's side the whole time, despite the hospital being pretty intent on getting him to jump through a ridiculous amount of hoops in order to accomplish this. Eventually, the pain gets to be so bad that Jim forgets to worry and just wants it to be over. It feels like he's lost in a bleary sea of agony for hours, and then finally, _finally,_ they hop him up on something absolutely fantastic. After that, the pain goes from being so intense he literally can’t think, to being something that's downright tolerable. And then someone's talking right in his ear, telling him to push, and he forgets to be embarrassed for his manhood, or panic over what's happening, and just listens. The pain gets a little worse, but not by much, and he's way too lost to the world to notice, anyway, and then...

And then he snaps back the instant they place a squirming red bundle on his chest. His head's still buzzing, and his arms feel numb, but he manages to wrap them around the little thing anyway, pulling it close and mumbling sweet nothings that are probably just part of his delirium, but damn it, Jim doesn't care. They tell him it's a boy, then cut the cord when Spock declines to do so. A few minutes pass and Jim just takes in the sight of the kid's ruddy, bitter face, and his tiny pointed ears and mop of curly black hair, and he's just about as awestruck and content as he is completely baked.

Spock places a gentle hand on Jim's shoulder, leaning over him and speaking softly. "I believe we should adhere to the customs practiced by your people and name him relatively soon."

"Good idea." Jim slurs a little when he talks. Names. Names. He has a _great_ idea for a name. "Let's... call him Enterprise." It's the highest honor Jim can think to bestow.

For a second, he's pretty sure Spock gives him a ghost of a smile. Then it vanishes. "No."

"Aw, c'mon..." Jim whines. "That's... It was... That's a good one."

"Your mental faculties are impaired due to the medication that was administered." If Spock were less of a Spock, he'd be sighing in exasperation right now. Jim's sure of it. "Perhaps we should postpone this discussion."

"Nah." Jim shakes his head sloppily. "I... can do this." Idly running a finger around the gentle slope of the baby's ear (and grinning when the kid's face scrunches up in response), Jim prompts, "What'd _you_ wanna call him?"

Spock doesn't miss a beat. "Surok."

Jim snorts. "Sounds like your dad's name."

Spock's eyebrows go up just a millimeter. "Are you implying the act of paying respect to one's elders is laughable?"

"Yes." Jim blinks. He's so tired. "No. I dunno." He sighs, admitting defeat, then slouches against the mass of pillows propping him up. "Fine. You win. Surok it is." It's not a bad name. And it looks like it suits the little gremlin anyway.

"If you are sure," Spock murmurs, then leans over and presses a kiss against the side of Jim's temple.

Jim beams, closing his eyes. "Yeah. M'sure."

He passes out clinging to Surok and ends up sleeping for ten hours straight.

When they bring Surok home, he doesn't do any of the things Jim's pretty sure normal babies are supposed to do. He doesn't cry or whine or make weird noises or grab at things. He just sort of sits there in his little propped-up baby chair, silently observing everything, even though Spock says that, at this stage, he can't actually see anything. Surok just sips obediently from Jim’s breast (or a bottle, when he gets his way) and sleeps at regular intervals. When he’s not doing those things, he just stares thoughtfully into the distance, wearing the same flat, un-amused expression that looks pretty damn ridiculous on such a tiny, chubby face.

He matures fast, and pretty soon everyone knows about James Tiberius Kirk and the debacle with his first officer that ended in a miniature, pointy-eared affront to nature. There's a goddamn rainbow of reactions, ranging from overjoyed, to bemused but supportive, to downright apalled. Thankfully, only the people who matter don't seem to give a fuck one way or the other, and Jim couldn't be happier about that. He wants to make sure the most important people in his life realize how amazing and enviable his little family is.

But it's not until one morning when Surok's two that word finally gets out to the last person.

"Jim," Spock starts, idly scrolling through his PADD as he sits at the dining room table.

"Yeah?" Jim's demonstrating some mind-blowing parental skills, balancing Surok on one hip while brewing coffee with his free hand.

"I have arranged for us to meet with someone today." Jim doesn't have to look up to know Spock's eyes are boring into the back of his head.

"Yeah?" Jim repeats himself, then tacks on, "Who?" just to show he's listening.

Spock pauses, and, apparently getting a weird kick out of being cryptic, replies, "An old friend."

"Oh. Well, that explains everything." Jim rolls his eyes and pours the fresh coffee into a mug, taking a sip and then wrinkling his nose with distaste. It's _way_ too bland. Pouring the entire contents of the pot down the drain, he walks back over to the seat across from Spock and drops into it, letting Surok slide into his lap in the process.

Surok shakes his head. "Incorrect. That explanation is vague and unsatisfactory."

Jim screws his eyes shut and bites his lip as he has another one of his "why can't I have a _normal_ toddler" moments.

Spock places his PADD carefully on the table and glances down at Surok. "As you have never met the individual in question, any details about them will most likely prove to be an insufficient amount of information on which to base judgement."

Jim looks down at Surok as well, just in time to catch his lower lip jutting out for a tiny fraction of a second. Then his son's face slides back into that emotionless mask. "True." Folding his chubby arms on the edge of the table (which he can only _barely_ reach while using Jim as some sort of human booster seat), Surok states slowly and carefully, "However, I am experiencing... " His shrimpy, angled eyebrows furrow nearly indistinguishably. "... curiosity."

"I understand." Spock nods briskly. "But you will have to wait for that particular emotion to be sated."

Jim holds his breath, expecting an outburst of annoyance or irritation. It's what he would do in Surok's position, after all. But Surok seems perfectly content with his dad's excuse and leans back against Jim leisurely.

Jim groans and covers his face. "I'm surrounded by robots."

Spock looks up at Jim. "You are not surrounded by robots. You are in in the company of two Vulcans of mixed heritage."

"Right," Jim deadpans. "My mistake."

He runs his hand through Surok's curls for a few seconds before the kid stops humoring him and starts making clumsy grabs at Jim's wrist. While trying to get Jim to stop showing affection, he finally displays a little aggravation by huffing, "Mother, _please_."

Jim sighs theatrically. "Still bent on calling me 'mom', huh?"

Surok's chubby mitts yank his hand down and the tiny brat tilts his head back to stare up at Jim. "I do not call you 'mom'. That would be disrespectful." Suddenly fascinated with Jim's hands, he bends the digits and adds distantly, "I call you 'mother'."

"Thanks. Thank you." Jim sniffs, trying not to laugh and blow his serious facade. "That's so much better."

Surok nods. "I know."

Spock's eyebrows dart up a fraction at their exchange. Jim's pretty sure Spock doesn't know he saw that shameful display of amusement, but he saw—he definitely saw.

Satisfied with their morning routine, Jim starts shoveling cereal into his mouth in relative silence, only to belatedly realize that he forgot to badger Spock about just whose visit they're supposed to be suffering through. Then, as if his thoughts made it happen, he hears a loud, familiar buzzing. It's the same obnoxious drone that comes out of the speakers built into every apartment when someone down at the base of the complex wants to get in. Clumsily wiping his mouth on his sleeve (the way any self-respecting, temporarily retired Star Fleet Captain would), Jim lifts Surok into his arms and gets up. Heading towards the communicator, and feeling more than ready to find out who this mystery-shrouded person is, Jim reaches his hand out to press the "accept" button, only to find his way blocked by Spock.

"You should not be wearing your bath robe," he states quietly. "It would be preferable to greet our guest in more appropriate attire."

The expression on the Vulcan's face almost looks sterner than usual. It just makes Jim wonder about this mystery house-caller even more. Whoever it is, they have to be a big damn deal to have Spock acting this paranoid. Which isn't paranoid in the slightest by human standards, but Jim'd have to be an idiot not to have picked up a few things about the subtle nuances to Spock's mannerisms by now.

After thinking this over briefly, Jim remembers to respond to the Vulcan's request. "Uh... Right. Gotcha."

He leans down and places Surok on the floor, letting the kid stalk off before heading into the bedroom he and Spock share. He sheds his bath robe, leaving it in a pile on the floor, despite knowing Spock's going to give him flack for it later, then examines his t-shirt. Since it isn't stained beyond recognition, Jim decides it counts as passable and leaves it on, yanking open a few dresser drawers and pulling out some clean pants instead. After shimmying into some fresh jeans, he heads back out into the apartment, scooping Surok into his arms without warning and grinning as the loveable scamp makes an almost imperceptible grunt of annoyance.

Giving Surok a little squeeze, Jim asks, "You ready to meet an 'old friend'?"

Surok nods stoicly. "Yes." That lower lip pokes out again. "Are you?"

"Wow." Jim snorts. "You're just a little ball of sass this morning."

"I know." Surok shakes his head wearily and makes another noise as he bites back an exasperated sigh. "It is something I need to correct."

There's a rap on the front door, causing Jim's head to jerk up. Spock immediately slides the entrance open, ducking his head in greeting and murmuring, "Ambassador."

Jim cranes his neck to one side and peers past the edge of the hallway.

He gets a good look at their guest, then feels like a complete idiot.

Well. He should've seen that coming.

The older Spock steps through the door with an expression on his face that's less blank and more along the lines of simply straight-faced. When he sees his younger self, Jim's pretty sure the old man gives an actual smile—albeit a brief one. Jim can't help but grin, too. It's nice to know that stick up Spock's ass is most likely _not_ a permanent condition.

"It is good to see you," the elderly Vulcan states warmly.

"Please." Jim's Spock gestures to the couch. "Be seated." It's clear that the younger Vulcan isn't making an order, just an offer. His counterpart accepts, easing down and folding his wrinkled hands over his lap. Jim glances down, watching Surok's head cock slightly to one side as the kid examines the back of the old man's skull intently. Jim himself is thinking deeply, but about something else entirely. Something that's really just wondering when he should make his entrance, and how he can make it as obnoxiously dramatic as possible. There's something really great about knowing there's a possibility you could give your significant other's older, parallel self a heart attack using nothing but your smart-ass toddler.

The ambassador speaks again, and Jim quickly shuts up his internal monologue so he can listen.

"I understand you have important news you would like to share with me."

"Yes," Spock replies. "I apologize for not informing you sooner, but it was not yet convenient." Jim's pretty sure he must be hearing things, because it almost sounds like Spock takes a deep breath. "However, I believe the time has come to enlighten you." His voice raises just slightly, calling out, "Jim?"

Jim cringes and immediately fumbles, trying to pretend like he wasn't listening the whole time. "Uh... Yeah! Coming!"

Still gripping Surok tightly, he walks calmly into the living room, despite the fact that he's getting the uncomfortable sensation that tells him he may be on the verge of getting judged. Which is odd, because Jim rarely cares about anyone's opinion, unless it’s his own. Still, the feeling sticks as he goes to stand in front of the older Spock, grinning almost shyly. His Spock rises to his feet and steps beside Jim, placing a hand carefully on the other man's shoulder and gesturing loosely to Surok.

"This is Surok," Spock announces carefully. "He is my son. And... Jim's son as well."

Jim instantly notices that the Ambassador's expressions show a hell of a lot less restraint than most Vulcans. His eyebrows rise immediately and his eyes widen noticeably after Spock drops the bomb. The older Spock even waits a good five or six seconds before responding. "I... see." It takes another few moments, but eventually he cracks a noticeable smile and rises to his feet, too. "In that case, it would seem congratulations are in order."

Jim wrinkles his nose in bewilderment, and, if he's being honest with himself, slight disappointment. "What? You're not gonna... freak out or anything?" He purses his lips. "Okay, I know Vulcans don't _freak out,_ but—"

The elderly Vulcan cuts him off. "Jim." He closes his eyes wearily for a bit. "I am sure that the story behind this is a compelling one. But in my travels, I have seen things _far_ more bizarre." He smiles again, and Jim can't help but smile back. "I am sorry if my lack of a reaction is disappointing to you."

"Oh, well... " Jim shrugs. "No big deal."

Surok glances up at Jim and Spock, then over to the elderly Vulcan. Once again, he does his little head tilt, then stares demandingly up at his father. "Who is he?"

The corner of Spock's mouth twitches. "That is a question you will have to ask him."

Jim takes the hint and sets Surok down, gingerly turning him so he's facing the ambassador.

Surok's not a shy kid. No—he's vocal to the point of the embarrassment of everyone around him. So it's sort of a shock when the shrimp takes his sweet time before directly confronting the old man. Eventually, Surok starts to fidget absently with his hands, then asks their visitor, "Who are you?"

Jim's expecting an unsatisfying, mystical answer. Another repetition of the "old friend" line, maybe. But that's not what happens. Kneeling gradually down onto one knee, the older Spock smiles down at Surok and calmly explains, "I am your father, though I come from a future that no longer exists. The events of my timeline differ greatly from the events in this one. In the reality I originated from, you did not exist. But I am experiencing happiness that I have been given the opportunity to meet you regardless."

Then, the weirdest thing yet happens.

Surok is satisfied with this answer.

Instead of prying for more information, his tiny eyes widen and he murmurs, "That is... _fascinating."_

The old Vulcan smiles. "I agree."

Rubbing his round chin, Surok glances up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Then he states his question. "Even if you truly are my father, I believe referring to you as such may warrant confusion. What should I call you?"

Jim pipes up cheerfully. "How about 'old man'?"

The look he gets from Spock Senior in response to that rules out the idea.

Instead, the ambassador smiles down at Surok again and replies, "I understand the term I am about to suggest is not accurate, given my genetic affiliation with you, but taking into account my age, the relationship I have with your parents, and the fact that there is no living individual worthy of such a title on Jim's side of the family, perhaps a fitting moniker would be 'grandfather'?"

Surok pauses again, clearly taking time to weigh the pros and cons. Then, giving a nod of approval, he announces, "I agree." Finally, that puny face breaks out in genuine smile, and Jim has to bite his lip in order to avoid squealing like an effeminate idiot when the kid eagerly tacks on, "Grandfather."

"I am pleased you think so." Surok allows the older Spock to run a hand smoothly through his hair before standing up again. Then he gives his newly-dubbed grandpa a small, demanding tug on the pant leg.

"Would you like to see my botanical slides?" Surok's more wide-eyed and eager than he's been in a long time, and Jim feels his chest give a happy little tug at the sight of the brat's behavior. "They are in my room."

The elderly Vulcan chuckles. "I would enjoy that very much."

Jim watches Surok lead his Grandpa-Spock into his bedroom and snorts, collapsing onto the couch and leaning back. As Spock settles in neatly by his side, he glances over at the Vulcan and demands, "Were you ever planning to tell me about this?"

Spock doesn't beat around the bush. "No."

Jim raises his eyebrows. "You know I wouldn't have screwed it up, right?"

Spock's mouth twitches again as he fights off a smile. "I realize that this is what you believe."

Jim exhales and leans his head on Spock's shoulder, murmuring happily, "Douche."

They both stay that way until, a few minutes later, the older Spock pokes his head back out the door and announces, "As a precaution, should I forget to mention it in the future, I would like to inform you that Surok is a lovely child."

Jim smirks. Vulcan punk or not, that goes without saying.

The elderly counterpart waits for just a moment, then adds, "Also that I will proudly extend my services as a grandfather to your next child."

And with that, Jim slips off the couch.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and praise, but I have no plans to write more content for this universe. :) Thank you for reading!


End file.
